


The Broken Heart's Playlist

by qunimees (rqyh)



Series: Broken Record [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, It's a format thing you know?, M/M, The first one's just a table of contents thing w a playlist, There's actually only five chapters, and someone bullshtting, brevity is the soul of wit, i am both., trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-21 12:15:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9548624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rqyh/pseuds/qunimees
Summary: All Kuroo does is break hearts.All Kenma wants is his own heart broken.





	1. Tracklist

**i. Save Me A Spark**  | Sleeping with Sirens

 

 **ii. Lost Boy** | Troye Sivan

 

 **iii. The Feeling** | Justin Bieber feat. Halsey

 

 **iv. Fourth of July** | Fall Out Boy

 

 **v. Save Me** | 방탄소년단 (BTS)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The theme for this playlist is "songs that make you want to cry and smile at the same time."


	2. Track One -  Painting Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **"Hearts are only open when they break." _Sleeping with Sirens, Save Me A Spark_**

**i.**

He watches them. How they dance like there’s no tomorrow. How they smile like today’s the best day of their lives. How they live like yesterday never happened.

            He wishes yesterday never happened. He wishes none of his yesterdays happened. He wishes for all of it to be gone, for all of it never to have existed. He wishes to forget everything—and with the bright lights of the club illuminating his vision, and the loud booming of the drums blocking his hearing, forgetting is easy.

            Shoyou was surprised when he asked if he could join him and Tobio in their nightly mission to get wasted at the local club near university. He asked if the older boy was okay. He said he was.

            (He wasn’t.)

            He said he wanted to get out of his comfort zone for a bit.

            (That was a lie.)

            He said that he wanted to try going out for once.

            (That was, too.)

            He didn’t say why.

            (He didn’t want to.)

            There was a voice at the back of his mind when the three of them walked down the street towards the club. It had been a long time since the last time he’d heard it. Maybe, two, three years ago?

            Oh—wait, no. He remembers now. (It was recent.)

            He remembers listening to it. He remembers letting it take control. He remembers all of the times he’d let it take control.

            Ah, but he’s trying to forget, isn’t he? Bad him, bad him.

            He looks at the people on the dancefloor as he leans on the bar. He sees them smiling, and tries to feel what they’re feeling. Tries to absorb the happy vibes they’ve been giving.

            Nothing happens.

            (Then again, maybe they’re not actually feeling what he thinks they’re feeling. Maybe that’s why it doesn’t work.)

            Why did he come here again? To forget?

            No, he’s always wanted to forget. No, he came here for something else.

            A push, maybe. A punch, more likely. A beating, even more. 

            He came here to regret.

            Ah, really.

            Why is he even here?

            “Hey.”

            He looks up to see black eyes as dark as coffee. Pale skin. Messy hair. A shit-eating grin. (A familiar face.)

            “Hey,” he replies. 

            “Name’s—”

            “Kuroo Tetsurou,” he finishes for him, earning a raised eyebrow from the tall man.

            “You know me.” He says it like it’s a question. Or an answer to one he never asked.

            “I do.”

            “So I take it you also know—”

            “The things you do and the things people say about you?” he finishes for him again, earning an amused smirk from Kuroo. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

            He chuckles, like he’s embarrassed. Or relieved. Or both.

            “I see this whole ‘me-trying-to-get-you-to-bed-with-me’ thing isn’t working as much as I wanted it to.”

            “On the contrary,” he says, leaning on the counter and smiling small, “you’re doing an excellent job.”

            Kuroo squints his eyes a bit, though the curve of his lips doesn’t waver.

            “What kind of things did you hear about me, exactly? Since you’re making me doubt we’re thinking of the same thing.”

            He smiles a bit more. “You’re a heartbreaker. You say, ‘I love you,’ and then throw your so-called ‘love’ out the window. Toss it aside, like garbage. You’ve made people cry. Made people hate you. Made people regret ever being with you. You break hearts for a living.”

            Kuroo cocks his head a bit, like he’s studying him.

            “You know all that,” he drawls, almost purring. “And you still say I’m doing an ‘excellent job.’”

            “You most certainly are.”

            Kuroo stares at him for a moment, before leaning forward, slowly, inch by inch.

            “In that case—” He places a finger on his knee, trailing up slowly, making him visibly shudder— “if I kissed you now, would you let me? If we skipped the whole flirt scene and went to the climax of the story, would you allow it?”

            “We’ve literally just met.” But he doesn’t move away either.

            “Is that a yes or a no?” Kuroo asks, moving closer until his lips are only centimeters away from his. “Tell me. You know how all of this will end, don’t you?”

            “I do.”

            “You know that it’ll end with your heart broken, don’t you?”

            “I do.”

            “Then—“ Kuroo places a hand on the back of his neck, thumb tracing his jawline— “will you let me break your heart?”

            He pauses for a moment, the sounds of the club deafening his ears, the sight of Kuroo’s eyes drowning him in, drinking him up, taking him away.

            “I will.”

            Kuroo crashes their lips together, both of them taking in the feeling, taking in what feels wrong and rushed and reckless—and loving it. It’s electricity and fire, burning him, melting him. Hurting him.

            (But, oh, does he love the pain.)

            They pull away, both of them still so close to each other. He pants out of excitement and the unfamiliarity of all of this. Kuroo leans his forehead against his.

            “You’ve never done this before,” Kuroo barely whispers.

            “No,” he agrees, breathless.

            “That’s fine.” Kuroo leans in to kiss him once more, then speaks against his lips, “I can teach you.”

            And he knows what he’s getting himself into. He knows.

            So he lets Kuroo lead him out of the club by the arm and into his car. He lets Kuroo drive him to his apartment and kiss him on the door before they even get inside. He lets Kuroo pin him against the wall of his room and against the sheets of his mattress. He lets Kuroo turn off his phone when Shoyou calls him for the third time.

            He lets Kuroo ruin him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao hi i am back. nope it's not yakulev this time, now it's super angsty kuroken!!! my writing style this time is VERY different from my prev works. (you'll see that in later works *wink**wink*) it's literally been almost a year since my last fic ahahahaha. it's not gonna be a long fic, sorry, but it is my first chaptered fic! i hope you like it!


	3. Track Two - Give In to Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **"Someone could love you more." _Troye Sivan, Lost Boy_**

**ii.**

There’s a ringing coming from his jacket pocket.

            “Aren’t you answering that?” Kuroo asks.

            “No,” he says, turning it off, making _Shoyou_ disappear with it.

            “Alright.”

            He looks around the CD store, a room painted by dull, faded shades of blue, gray, and white. There are some cracks on the walls, and the lighting isn’t that good. He assumes Kuroo likes places like these.

            (He assumes wrong.)

            “Why did you take me here?” he asks.

            “Just figured that it’s about time I take you somewhere other than my bedroom,” he says, scratching his neck. (He does that a lot.)

            “For formality’s sake?” He smiles.

            “For morality’s sake,” Kuroo answers, half-serious and half-joking.

            He laughs a little, and finds Kuroo doing the same.

            “Didn’t all your morals get thrown out the window the moment you started breaking people’s hearts?” he asks, walking down an aisle, letting his fingers slide across the CD cases.

            “Maybe,” Kuroo says, “but that doesn’t mean I won’t try to bring them back.”

            He looks at him for a moment, staring at him, studying him. Kuroo’s voice had sounded odd. Then again, Kuroo himself is odd. He walks to a different aisle, picking up a CD. The cover is a picture of the city at night.

            “Do you like that one?” Kuroo asks. 

            “No,” he answers, flipping the CD to look at the song titles. “I’m just pretending to like it so you won’t feel bad. The cover is really pretty, though.”

            “Is it?”

            “No.” He puts the CD down.

            “You know, if anything, you’re probably the heartbreaker.”

            He laughs, and Kuroo does the same.

            “What _do_ you like, then?” Kuroo asks, putting his hands in his pockets. (He does that a lot, too.)

            “Houses,” he answers.

            “Houses?”

            “Yeah, houses,” he says, picking up another CD, this time the cover being a picture of a lady. “The type of houses they have in the province. The ones that gather together like a group, where old ladies greet each other from the gates and little kids run on streets made for bicycles. Where there’s a beach somewhere nearby and sometimes the families go there during vacation, even though they go there all the time. Places like that.”

            Kuroo is quiet for a moment.

            “Kuroo?”

            “That artist you’re holding doesn’t make good music,” he says.

            He looks down at the CD. “They don’t?”

            “No, they don’t.”

            “Hm.”

            He puts the CD back in its place.


	4. Track Three - Borderline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _****_ **"Sometimes, the heart is deceiving." _Justin Bieber, The Feeling feat. Halsey_**

**iii.**

“You should probably go back to your apartment.”

            He looks up from where he’s seated on the bench, hugging his knees. He reaches over to get the vanilla ice cream Kuroo’s handing to him.

            “Why would you say that?” he asks, biting on the ice cream.

            “Just… I don’t know.” Kuroo sits on the bench, licking his chocolate ice cream. “It’s probably accumulating dust, or something.”

            He glances over at him for a second, then turns back to his ice cream.

            “That’s not why you’re telling me to go back home.”

            “Tell me, then.”

            “I don’t know. I just know it’s not that.”

            Kuroo sighs. “How long has it been since you went back there?”

            “Probably a month.”

            “It’s been longer.”

            “Has it?”

            “Why don’t you care?”

            “Why do you?”

            He’s looking at him now. He’s not angry, but he is tired. Kuroo looks both.

            “Your friend—Hinata or whatever—had to contact _thirty_ people to find out where you’ve been. He’s worried sick. He’s been looking for you all over the place. Your parents are worried, too. They’re not sure if you’re alive, or if you’re dead, or if something happened to you—“

            “Nothing new, then.”

            Kuroo stalls for a moment.

            “What?”

            He looks at him straight in the eye. “Nothing. New. Then.”

            Kuroo stares at him. Then he sighs deeply, and gestures for him to scoot over. He does, and Kuroo wraps his arms around him.

            “You’re getting ice cream on my shirt,” he says.

            “You don’t care, anyway.”

            “No, I don’t.”

            “Will you come back home?”

            “No.”

            Kuroo sighs. “I really don’t understand you.”

            “I can’t understand you either,” he says, biting on his ice cream. “You’re kind and caring and nice and pure and passionate and sweet and fun and open and affectionate and loving and warm and thoughtful and selfless and wonderful—“

            “Okay, _what_ —“

            “—and people still make rumors that you’re a heartbreaker.”

            Kuroo doesn’t speak for a moment.

            He looks up and sees Kuroo looking down on him.

            “I figured it out. People always said that you break up with your partner on the second week. But according to what you said, we are way past that mark right now.”

            Kuroo continues to blink at him.

            “Also, your roommate likes to talk.”

            “ _Bokuto_ ,” Kuroo hissed.

            “It’s a shame,” he says, looking back down and biting on the cone. “I was hoping you would break my heart.”

            “Why?”

            He doesn’t answer, just finishes off the last piece of the cone.

            Kuroo’s ice cream makes a big brown mess on his jacket.


	5. Track Four - Off Too Soon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **"May the bridges I have burned light my way back home." _Fall Out Boy, Fourth of July_**

**v. (i.)**

He remembers. He remembers everything.

            The smiles, the laughs, the happiness when they found out. The tears of joy, the wrinkles in their eyes, the hugs he received. The light in their eyes. The joy in their words. The relief in their hearts.

            The disappointment in his chest.

            _You’re not going to die_. _You’re going to keep on living. You’re not going to suffer any longer._

He had punched the walls when he got home. When everyone agreed to celebrate and he agreed to stay home to rest. He had shouted and yelled and cried because _why why why?_

            It was supposed to be his escape, damn it. He was supposed to be free, damn it. He was supposed to stop living and to stop hurting and to stop feeling and to stop existing, but he was still _alive_ and he was still _breathing_ and he _hated every single part of it._

            Why? Why did _he_ have to survive it? Why couldn’t it have been the ten-year-old girl who wanted to become an astronaut? Why couldn’t it have been the man in his late thirties who wanted to see his children grow up successful?

            Why did it have to be miserable and ungrateful _Kenma_ who wished for his sickness to do the dirty work so he didn’t have to?

            Why did it have to be _him_ , of all people? Why? _Why?_

            But he should have been grateful, shouldn’t he? He should have been grateful that he got a second chance to live. He should have been happy, like them. They, who were so _fucking_ happy that he got to live.

            But he wasn’t. And he hated himself for it.

            Because he no longer had a reason. No longer had an excuse.

            Because if he killed himself now, the people around him would only have themselves to blame. Because if he killed himself now, the people who loved him would end up just like him. Because if he killed himself now, they’d kill themselves, too.

            And now, even Kuroo can’t be his excuse anymore.

 

**v. (ii.)**

He wakes up to a white ceiling.

            “Hey, good morning,” Kuroo says.

            “Where am I?” he asks.

            “At the hospital. You suddenly had a heart attack when we got back home a few days ago.”

            “You don’t look surprised.”

            “Don’t worry, I was crying and panicking the entire way here.”

            “Were you?”

            “Yes.”

            He looks at the sheet of paper in Kuroo’s hand.

            “What’s that?”

            “Your medical record. I’m not actually supposed to look at it, but the doctor went out like ten minutes ago, and—“

            “So you know.”

            “I—“ Kuroo looks down. “Yeah. The doctor said you relapsed. That it was only a little amount of time before you—“

            “Kuroo.”

            “He said that it’s too late, that you can’t get cured anymore, that we can only wait—“

            “ _Kuroo.”_

Kuroo stops speaking.

            He gestures for Kuroo to come close. Kuroo does, and he lifts a hand to wipe the tears off his cheek.

            “…You were right,” he whispers. “I am the heartbreaker.”

            The doctor comes in thirty minutes later, and tells Kuroo to leave.


	6. Track Five - Before I Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **"Thank you for being 'us.' "  
>  ** _**방탄소년단 (BTS), Save Me** _

**v. (i.)**

He opens the door to see Kuroo.

            “Come on, we’re going somewhere,” Kuroo says, and grabs his wrist. (Gently. It’s getting thinner by the day.)

            “Alright.”

**v. (ii.)**

They drive for two hours.

            “Don’t you have an exam today?” he asks.

            “Yeah,” Kuroo answers.

            He turns back to the window.

 

**v. (iii.)**

“We’re here,” Kuroo announces.

            Kuroo helps him out of the car, and he is greeted by rows and rows of small houses, by a road too small for a car, by a small group of people chattering and looking at the newcomers.

            “Remember that thing you said?” Kuroo asks. “When we went to the CD store and you pretended to like the CDs because you pitied me then.”

            “I still pity you now.”

            “Right. Anyway, turns out that place you liked is my hometown.” He gestures widely. “Behold! Your dream home!”

            He looks at him weirdly.

            “You do realize that I was lying about that too, right?”

            Kuroo puts down his arms. “You were?”

            “No.” He stands on his tiptoes and pecks Kuroo on the cheek. “I love it.”

 

**v. (iv.)**

“See? It even has a beach,” Kuroo is saying.

            “It does.”

            There is silence for a moment.

            “What is it?” he asks.

            “I’m trying to call you by your name, but I literally just realized that I’ve never called you by it before.”

            “And you think it’s awkward.”

            “Yeah.”

            Silence.

            “I used you, you know,” Kuroo says. “When I saw you at the club, alone by yourself, I thought, ‘If this person breaks my heart, too, then I won’t love anymore.’ I betted on you. I used you like a coin I tossed into the air. I was always cautious around you. Waiting for you to throw me away like those other people did. But you didn’t. And to be honest, I kinda wished you did. Because it’d be much easier.”

            He isn’t looking at him.

            “Kenma, I—“

            “Don’t say it.”

            “I didn’t even finish—“

            “I already know what you’re going to say. Don’t say it.”

            “Alright.”

 

**v. (v.)**

He wishes he could stay longer. He really does.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaaand that's a wrap, everybody! Thank you so much for reading all the way (ok let's face it: you only had to walk like ten paces per chap max) and enduring the painful dreadful feeling of having to wait for a week before reading like 400 words. If you didn't notice, there's a _sliiight_ addition in the tag box up there. So, stay tuned in for the next one!


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